CHAPTER 53: WHEN PAST AND PRESENT COLLIDE


"This is very good." Mireet nodded in satisfaction as she took another bite of her tomatoes stuffed with goat's cheese. She looked over at Alain as he cut off another piece of his Skate wing with capers. "Are you enjoying your lunch, dear?"

He glanced up at her. "It is acceptable."

She smiled briefly. For Alain, that was high praise indeed.

"But," he continued, "they put too much seasoning on the Skate."

Mireet fought to keep from frowning. Why is it so hard for him to enjoy anything?

She chewed slowly, gazing around the Muggle bistro located down the street from Union Station in Washington, D.C. She had eaten here a few times before. While the white linen table clothes and the string quartet playing soothing music in the corner were nice touches, the black and white photograph of the Paris landscape covering every inch of wall and the waiters and waitresses wearing black berets, some of them throwing out French phrases at every opportunity, seemed a bit over the top. Still, she loved the food and the people who worked here always acted cordial and professional. After months of cajoling, she finally convinced Alain to come here for lunch. No easy task, that. Alain was very particular when it came to where he ate. He always acted uncomfortable when it came to trying some place new, unless one of his superiors at the embassy suggested it to him. Though knowing Alain, he only did it to look good in front of those same superiors, as he always told them he liked whatever restaurant they suggested, whether he meant it or not.

She hoped bringing Alain here was a sign his rigid manner might be softening.

But that seemed too much to ask for.

"I'm sure it is not as bad as you say," she said.

"Perhaps you are just easier to please. Ah! I think some of these potatoes are burned."

Mireet's mouth tightened as she glared at Alain. Perhaps you just like to complain.

Alain's mood did not improve throughout their lunch. He moaned about how the ambassador appeared displeased by his recommendation to issue a warning to all French wizarding citizens traveling to the Carolinas because of an increase in raids by reptoids.

"She did not come out and say this, of course," he noted. "But I could tell she felt I was wasting her time. 'Three raids over the last month with no human casualties is not a cause for concern,' she said. She fails to see that this could be the start of some sort of escalation. Or perhaps I could have phrased my concerns better. There must be a way to get her to listen. I can't have her think me paranoid, or worse, incompetent."

Mireet nodded. That's all she did as Alain continued to complain. What is the point of offering him advice? He will only tell me I am wrong or do not understand, as he usually does.

Mercifully, lunch came to an end. She wondered if maybe she should have planned this lunch date for a weekend, when Alain wouldn't be so wrapped up in his work.

No. Even on weekends, he still thinks about work.

Well, maybe not as much as on weekdays, but still . . .

She stared at him as they walked down the street, holding hands. There had to be a way to get him to stop being so serious all the time. To relax. To realize that your career did not have to consume your entire life.

They neared an alleyway that would provide them cover to Apparate from Muggle eyes when a bus passed by. The large advertisement on its side caught her eye. It showed the helmeted head and upper body of a man holding a hockey stick. His black jersey sported an image of a domed building with two crossed hockey sticks. The words next to the man's image read, CATCH THE ACTION: CAPITALS HOCKEY. A phone number to call for tickets followed.

A smile spread over her face. She closed her eyes, thinking back to that day at Hogwarts . . . has it really been five years? She recalled streaking across the ice, the tingle that went up her arms when the puck connected with her stick, rearing back and using all her strength to shoot it at the net. Getting hit by those awful Slytherin players, and hitting them back. The excitement, the adrenaline, the feel of being out of control yet in control at the same time. She never imagined a ground-based game could be as exhilarating as Quidditch.

She realized she hadn't had anything to do with hockey since her year at Hogwarts. Merlin, she didn't realize until now how much she missed it. The fast-pace, the physicality, the sheer joy of getting that little rubberized disc past the goalie.

"Alain."

"Yes?" he replied as they entered the alley.

"I have an idea. Why don't we go to a hockey game?"

He stopped and turned to her, one eyebrow cocked. "That Muggle game? Are you serious?"

"Oui. It has been so long since I have seen a game. It will be fun. I think you would enjoy it, too. Besides, my mother always says it is good to try new things."

Alain frowned. "Sports are nothing but a distraction to things that are truly important."

"Sometimes it is good to be distracted for a little while."

He rolled his eyes. "People who say things like that tend not to take life seriously."

The skin around Mireet's nose crinkled. "Are you suggesting I don't take anything seriously?"

"I have said in the past that sometimes your focus can be a bit off."

"Because I do not think about my career every hour of every day?" The tone of her voice hardened.

A look of disappointment came over Alain's face. "You have exceptional talents, Mireet. I don't want to see you waste them."

"There are things in life more important than a career. What about a family? Don't you want to have your own family one day?"

"Of course."

"Because you truly want to or because you think having a wife and children might make you look good in the eyes of others?"

Alain paused, a long, unsettling pause. "That is ridiculous."

"Is it? Almost every decision you make seems centered around how it will help your career. Is that the only thing important to you?"

"You are important to me."

"Then stop being so resistant when I suggest we do something fun." Mireet stepped closer to him, taking hold of both his hands. "I worry about you. You never seem happy. I want you to enjoy yourself. I want us to enjoy ourselves. Is that so much to ask?"

Alain chewed on his lower lip. His eyes flickered to the ground for a few seconds, then returned to her. "Mireet, if we go somewhere to have your 'fun,' ignore everything else in our lives, even for a few hours, that means there will be others working hard during that time to further their careers at our expense."

Mireet pulled her hands away from Alain's. "Your career, your career. I am growing tired of hearing about your career all the time."

"And what would you have me do? Sit on a street and hold up a tin can, begging for money like the Muggle homeless in this city? Not care about bettering my life so we can go off to hockey games and idiotic Muggle restaurants because you want to have fun?"

She felt her cheeks grow hot. Loud breaths shot from her nose. Jaw clenched, she spun around and headed out of the alley.

"Where are you going?" Alain demanded.

"Back to the embassy," she spoke through clenched teeth.

"Then why not stay here and Apparate?"

"I prefer to walk," she snapped as she exited the alley and marched down the sidewalk.

She remained in a foul mood the rest of the afternoon, barely able to concentrate on work. Half the time she just glared at the photo of Alain sitting on the corner of her desk.

Why must you be so difficult? The thought echoed through her head until it was time to go home.

She left the embassy by herself and Apparated back to her apartment. She had no desire to have dinner with Alain tonight. She had no desire to do anything with Alain tonight.

Mireet yanked off her cloak and hung it in the closet, closing the door harder than normal. Her face tightened in frustration as she stalked toward the kitchen to see what she could have for dinner.

A tapping came from her window.

She stopped and looked. An owl was perched on the window sill, an envelope in its beak.

The breath caught in her throat. She thought back to that horrible night nearly two years ago, when another owl had appeared at her window with another letter, the one that informed her and Jimmy of Fred's death.

Drawing a slow breath, she hesitantly walked to the window and opened it, letting the owl come inside. That's when she recognized the bird. Hollis, Artimus' owl.

She took the envelope from Hollis, opened it, and read the letter.

Dear Mireet,

If possible, would you please meet me at The Golden Wand Tavern in Haypippil Square tomorrow at noon? I have something very important I need to talk to you about.

Sincerely,

Artimus

She continued to gaze at the letter, wondering what important reason Artimus had to talk with her.

Something involving Jenna, perhaps? She couldn't imagine them having problems with their relationship.

In that respect, they are fortunate.

She continued to wonder. It had to be something they shared in common. Could it be war-related? Then again, Artimus had adjusted to life after the war better than . . .

That's when it hit her. What else could it be?

Mireet summoned a quill, ink bottle and piece of parchment with her wand and composed a response.

XXXXX

The Golden Wand was crowded and loud with dozens of separate conversations merging into one mass of noise when Mireet entered. A skinny ghost in a rumpled dark suit who acted as maitre d' guided her through the maze of wooden tables to a booth by the window.

"Mireet!" Artimus waved to her.

A smile flashed across her face as she thanked the ghost maitre d' and headed over to him.

"Artimus. It is good to see you." She hugged him and kissed him on both cheeks before sitting across from him. "How is Jenna?"

"Jenna's fine. Busy with work and her classes, but I think she's enjoying going to college. I think after her parents died, she felt she'd never have the chance to do that."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"How are you doing?" He asked as he picked up his menu.

"I am well, thank you."

"And, um, Alain?"

Mireet's lips tightened. She picked up her menu and answered without looking at Artimus. "Alain is fine," she answered quickly.

"Uh-huh." He grimaced, then focused on his menu.

After the waitress took their orders, Mireet folded her hands on the table and locked eyes with Artimus. "So what is this important matter you wish to discuss with me?"

Artimus cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He gazed out the window for a few moments before looking back at her. "I wanted to talk to you about . . . well, it's about Jimmy, Jared and Rosa."

Her stomach lurched. She'd already guessed this to be the reason Artimus wanted to see her. "What . . . what about them?"

A sullen look came over his face. "They're . . . well, you know how rough things have been for them since the war ended."

"Oui." She nodded.

Artimus' shoulders sagged. He shook his head. "Things are getting really, really bad for them."

Mireet tensed as Artimus informed her about the dilemma of each friend. He didn't have much regarding Jared, except, according to Rosa, he didn't seem happy with his assignment in Thailand. Unfortunately, he hardly kept in contact with anyone. This, in and of itself, was cause for concern. Jared had always been very outgoing and personable.

At least he was before his mother died.

She froze in shock when Artimus spoke about Rosa. Her family problems had gotten worse as her uncle had sunk deeper into depression, and her cousin Esteban had struck her during an argument. Even a will as strong as Rosa's had its breaking point. Judging from the breakdown she suffered in Artimus' apartment a couple nights ago, she had reached hers.

"And then," Artimus paused for a second. "There's Jimmy."

Tension knotted her entire body at the mention of his name. "You . . . you have heard from him?"

"No, I didn't. But Rosa's mother went to see him in Fort Wayne."

She bit her lip, wanting to ask if Jimmy was all right. But judging from Artimus' expression, she knew the answer.

Her throat constricted as he went on. She couldn't believe it when she learned Jimmy had been arrested by Muggle authorities for, of all things, buying beer for underage girls. What could he have been thinking!?

Not only that, but according to Rosa's mother, Jimmy was apparently drinking . . . a lot!

That sent a shiver up her spine. She had some familiarity with people using alcohol to cope with tragedy. If the same thing was happening to Jimmy . . .

Merlin help him.

She barely realized that her soup had appeared before her as Artimus went on. "Those three have been there for me so many times, I owe it to them to help them."

"How?"

"I'm still working on that, at least when it comes to Rosa and Jared. But I do have an idea for Jimmy."

"What is it?"

Artimus chewed on his bottom lip. "Well, I was hoping that you might talk to him."

Her chest tightened. "Me?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "From the way Mrs. Infante sounded, Jimmy looks to be in the worst shape right now of them. I mean, he did get arrested, after all."

"What about you? You have known Jimmy longer than me. Shouldn't you talk to him?"

"I don't think I'd know the right words to say. Besides, if he can tell someone like Mrs. Infante to basically get lost, I doubt he's going to listen to anything I have to say."

"And you think he will listen to me instead?"

"Yeah. I mean, well . . ." Artimus shifted again in his seat, pinching a corner of his cloth napkin and rubbing it between his fingers. His eyes flickered between her and the napkin. "He . . . he loves you."

Mireet had to concentrate to keep her jaw from trembling. A torrent of memories swept through her mind, all of them involving Jimmy. One particular memory pushed its way to the forefront. The two of them, standing in a corridor at Hogwarts, as Jimmy told her he was leaving the Wizarding World for good.

"Are you sure you mean 'loves' and not 'loved?'"

Artimus paused, now clenching his napkin. "Look, I just know when he got back from Hogwarts, he talked about you a lot. He always had that picture of you and him at the Yule Ball on his nightstand, and quite a few times I caught him staring at it. And after everything you two went through during the war . . ." He drew a deep breath. "I just can't imagine he's stopped thinking about you, or caring about you."

"Artimus, I am with somebody. Besides, do you really believe if I see Jimmy, if we actually started a relationship, that would somehow solve all his problems?"

"I'm not asking you to be his girlfriend. I'm just asking you to talk with him, to try and help him. He'll listen to you, I know it."

Mireet leaned back in her seat, exhaling loudly. "As I recall, when he told me he was leaving our world, I asked him not to. I told him it wouldn't solve his problems." An edge crept into her voice. "I told him how much I would miss him if he left. I almost begged him to stay. He did not listen to me then. If he truly loved me, wouldn't he have stayed?"

"Then he made a mistake," Artimus blurted. "Come on, Mireet. None of us have been in our right minds since the war ended."

"You are doing fine."

Artimus snorted. "I wish. I still have nightmares about the war. Not a day goes by when I don't miss Hector. Some days . . ." His jaw stiffened for a moment. "Some days, I forget he's dead. Something happens that I want to tell him about, or I wonder about something and think Hector would be the person to ask, and then I remember he's dead. If it weren't for Jenna, I might be like Jimmy or Rosa or Mr. Diaz right now."

"I don't know if I can do that, be there for him like Jenna is for you. As I said, I am with Alain."

"And how are things going with you two? Are you happy with him?"

Mireet's eyes widened. She couldn't remember Artimus ever being so direct.

His lips tightened, he swallowed and looked down at the table, as though fearful he'd said something inappropriate.

She couldn't decide whether he had or not.

They ate lunch in relative silence. When they finished, Artimus drew a deep breath, his eyes full of desperation. "Mireet, please think about this. I really think you're the only one who can help Jimmy."

She just stared at him, her thoughts jumbled. Jimmy was her friend, more than a friend. But he had abandoned her, abandoned the entire Wizarding World. Perhaps her sister, Monique, had been right when she told her to get over him.

But we have been through so much together.

She sighed and got to her feet, her eyes still on Artimus. "I . . . just don't know."

His face sagged in defeat.

Tears stung the corners of her eyes. She hated seeing Artimus like this, especially since she had caused it.

But what can I do?

She willed the building tears to go away and leaned down to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Give Jenna my best. I'll . . . I will see you later. Bye, Artimus."

"Yeah. Bye." The crest-fallen expression remained on his face.

Frowning, Mireet turned and exited The Golden Wand.

When she returned to the embassy, an envelope lay on her desk. She picked it up and opened it.

Mireet,

I apologize for yesterday. I hope you have gotten over it. Please see me at your convenience.

Alain.

She continued staring at the letter and shook her head a little. How formal.

Like the day before, Mireet had trouble concentrating on work. Artimus' conversation, and her situation with Alain, dominated her mind. She doubted Alain would approve of her going halfway across America to help a man who had been, and quite possibly still, in love with her. She didn't even know if she should do it.

Why did Artimus ask this of me? What could she even say to Jimmy to help him?

She didn't respond to Alain's apology, and thankfully, he hadn't come by her desk. Probably because he had some "important" work to do. Just as well. She was too pre-occupied with her thoughts to deal with Alain right now.

When Mireet returned to her apartment, she only managed a few steps inside before staring at her sofa. Her chest tightened as her mind flashed back nearly two years ago. She'd been on that same couch, massaging Jimmy's shoulders, looking forward to an intimate night with him, to the beginning of a future together.

If only that owl had come just few hours later. Maybe things would have been different between them.

She took tentative steps toward the sofa, then stood by it for several seconds before finally sitting down. Her mind replayed her conversation with Artimus. Worry, anger and disappointment swirled inside her, all directed at Jimmy. For her part, confusion dominated her mind. By helping Jimmy, would she be betraying Alain's trust in her?

How? Even if I did decide to help Jimmy, I would not get involved with him.

Are you sure?

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her couch. A minute later she pulled out her wand and cast a Summoning Charm. A large book with a brightly colored cover soared across the room and onto her lap. Hesitating for a moment, she picked up the photo album and flipped through the pages until she came to one titled, "Hogwarts Memories."

She skipped over most of the moving photos until she came to one. A shudder went through her insides as she gazed at herself in a silvery gown and Jimmy in dress robes, an arm around the other's waist, smiling at the camera.

The night of the Yule Ball.

A smile traced her lips. She thought back to that night. The beautiful décor of the Great Hall with silver frost on the walls and mistletoe and ivy adorning the ceiling. The fun they had sitting at the same table with Fred and George and Angelina and Katie. Dancing into the night. The way Jimmy held her when the Weird Sisters played slow songs.

Even five years after the fact, her heart skipped a beat.

Then she recalled what happened after the Yule Ball, when Jimmy walked her back to the Beauxbatons carriage. He had attempted to kiss her, but she told him she didn't want to be in a relationship with him, her heartbreak over Marc-Andre still fresh in her mind.

"If I let myself fall for you, I know my heart is going to shatter again when you leave. I . . . I'm sorry. I just cannot bear to go through that sort of pain again."

He had walked away from her with a curt goodnight, looking for all the world like he hated her.

Her heart broke as she watched him storm off toward the castle.

Months later, he broke her heart again when they said good-bye their last day at Hogwarts. As much as she tried to deny it, she had fallen in love with him. Though she never acted on her feelings, leaving him behind, thinking she'd never see him again, hurt so very much.

Then last summer, when he told her he was leaving the Wizarding World and everyone in it. More heartbreak.

And if she went to Fort Wayne to help him and failed, if he just spiraled further down the same black hole as Rosa and her uncle, she knew what would happen to her.

How many times could she let Jimmy O'Bannon break her heart?

Then another memory popped into her head. The night the Death Eaters ambushed her outside her apartment. She had Apparated to Jimmy's encampment, bloodied and weak. She'd had passed out in front of him. Fear of death gripped her soul, along with another fear. How would it affect Jimmy if he watched her die in front of him?

When she regained consciousness, her injuries treated, the first thing she saw was Jimmy staring down at her, holding her hand. The look in his eyes, the expression on his face. It was at that moment that she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Jimmy truly, deeply loved her.

He had been there for her during the gravest night of her life. How could she not be there for him in his hour of need?

And what of Alain?

She knew what might happen if she went to help Jimmy. If she succeeded in helping him, there was a chance they might . . .

She chewed on her lower lip. Would that be fair to Alain?

Mireet thought back to the other day, their argument after lunch. That hadn't been their first argument. Then again, all couples argue.

But it was more than just that one argument. She closed her eyes and thought back over the last several months. At first, she thought Alain acted like an absolute gentleman. He still did, most times. She felt like he cared about her. But his career always came first, while many times she felt she came second to him, and a very distant second at that.

He also never seemed happy, even when things went his way at work. He also disregarded every idea, every piece of advice, that came out of her mouth. She might not be right about everything, but Alain could at least respect her opinion. And it aggravated her so much when he talked down to her like she was a child.

For all his faults, Jimmy had never been condescending toward her, always had the courtesy to listen to her views and treated her with respect.

Plus, he also knew how to enjoy himself.

Her sister had told her the last time she was home in France that she needed to find herself a practical man to settle down with. All well and good, but shouldn't that man also be someone who made her happy as well?

Mireet stiffened her jaw. She had to ask herself one question.

Can I see myself spending the rest of my life with Alain?

It took all of two seconds for her to come up with the answer.

No.

She asked herself the same question again, only this time she replaced Alain with Jimmy.

She found she couldn't answer it, not until she saw Jimmy in person. Not until he resolved his problems, if he could.

What if I help him and we still do not end up together? Dread swelled within her. Hadn't her heart suffered enough?

She then thought back to that last day at Hogwarts, sitting in the carriage as it soared into the air, looking back down at the castle. Regret had overwhelmed her. She let the memory of her break-up with Marc-Andre rule her, deny her even a few months of happiness, of love, with Jimmy.

She never forgave herself for that stupidity.

Mireet exhaled slowly. She still feared yet another heartache, but she feared a lifetime of regret even more.

TO BE CONTINUED